Chương 7
“Yes.”
“How?”
“Daniel.”
Claire closed her eyes.
“When?”
“Two years ago.”
“You knew my brother?”
“Yes.”
“How well?”
“Well enough to miss him.”
Claire pressed her fist against her mouth.
Samuel said, “Are you okay?”
“No.”
“Fair.”
“Did you know he made files?”
“Yes.”
“Did you know he hid them?”
“No.”
“Why didn’t you contact me after he died?”
Samuel breathed out.
“Because he asked me not to.”
“Why?”
“He thought you’d try to fix everything.”
Despite herself, Claire almost laughed.
“That sounds like him.”
“He said you’d take responsibility for things that weren’t yours.”
“That also sounds like him.”
“And he said Victoria would destroy herself before she let you destroy your memory of your father.”
Claire stopped smiling.
“What does that mean?”
Samuel did not answer immediately.
“Where are you?”
“New York.”
“So am I.”
They agreed to meet at noon.
Michael hated the idea.
Not because he objected to Samuel.
Because Claire wanted to go alone.
“You discovered twelve hours ago that your family has been hiding a person for twenty-three years.”
“He’s not a bomb.”
“You don’t know what he is.”
“He’s my brother.”
“You don’t know that either.”
Claire looked at him.
Michael rubbed his face.
“That came out wrong.”
“Yes.”
“I mean you haven’t verified anything.”
“I have Dad’s name on documents.”
“You have documents Daniel collected.”
“You think Daniel invented him?”
“No.”
“Then what?”
“I think you’re angry and grieving and running on three hours of sleep.”
“I’m fine.”
Michael looked at her.
Claire sighed.
“I’m not fine.”
“Thank you.”
“I’m still going.”
“I know.”
Samuel chose a diner on Tenth Avenue.
Claire arrived twelve minutes early and spent eleven of them wishing she had not come.
She knew him immediately when he entered.
Not because he looked like Thomas.
He didn’t.
He looked like Daniel.
Not exactly. Samuel was older than Daniel had been when he died, with darker hair and a narrow face.
But he paused inside the door and checked the room by lifting his chin slightly.
Daniel used to do that.
Claire gripped the edge of the table.
Samuel saw her.
He stopped.
Then he came over.
“Claire?”
She stood.
Neither knew whether to hug.
They shook hands.
It was awful.
Samuel sat.
“Daniel said you hated awkward people.”
“He lied.”
“He said you become aggressively polite around them.”
Claire stared at him.
Samuel smiled.
There was Daniel again.
She looked away.
A waitress appeared.
“You two need menus?”
“Yes,” Claire said.
“No,” Samuel said.
The waitress looked between them.
Samuel picked up a menu.
“Yes.”
After she left, Claire laughed.
Samuel did too.
For several seconds neither spoke.
Then Claire said, “I’m sorry.”
“For what?”
“I don’t know.”
“That seems inefficient.”
“You sound like him.”
His smile disappeared.
“I know.”
Claire looked at his hands.
“Did you know our father?”
Samuel folded the corner of the paper placemat.
“I met him twice.”
“That’s all?”
“That was enough for him.”
Claire absorbed the sentence.
“What happened?”
“The first time, I was nineteen. My mother had just died. I found letters.”
“From Dad?”
“Yes.”
“Did she know he was married?”
“Eventually.”
Claire looked down.
Samuel continued.
“I called him. He flew out to Chicago.”
“What did he say?”
“That he was sorry.”
“Did you believe him?”
“No.”
“Do you now?”
Samuel thought about it.
“Some days.”
The waitress returned.
Claire ordered coffee.
Samuel ordered pancakes.
She stared at him.
“What?”
“Nothing.”
“You’re judging pancakes?”
“No.”
“You are.”
“My brother used to order pancakes at lunch.”
Samuel looked at the menu.
“Daniel did too.”
Claire felt the sting again.
“You ate with him?”
“A lot.”
“How long did you know him?”
“About a year and a half.”
Claire looked out the window.
People moved along the sidewalk carrying umbrellas.
A delivery cyclist swore at a taxi.
The ordinary world continued with offensive confidence.
“Why didn’t he tell me?”
“He wanted to.”
“Everybody keeps saying that.”
“He was afraid.”
“Daniel wasn’t afraid of me.”
“No. He was afraid of what telling you would do.”
“To me?”
“To your mother.”
Claire gave him a hard look.
“Why did he care?”
“Because he loved her.”
“She told people he relapsed.”
“I know.”
“She locked my daughter outside last night.”
Samuel stared at her.
“What?”
Claire told him.
By the end, his pancakes had arrived.
He had not touched them.
“That doesn’t sound like her.”
“You know her?”
“I met her once.”
“When?”
“After Daniel died.”
Claire set down her coffee.
“She came to you?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“To ask me to leave you alone.”
Claire laughed without humor.
“Of course.”
“She also gave me money.”
“How much?”
“I didn’t take it.”
“What did she say it was for?”
“My mother.”
“Your mother was dead.”
“For what my mother had lost.”
Claire stared at him.
“What did she lose?”
Samuel looked uncomfortable.
“That’s why Daniel was investigating.”
Claire waited.
Samuel pushed the pancakes away.
“My mother didn’t have an affair with Thomas.”
Claire frowned.
“I don’t understand.”
“She worked for him. He was her boss.”
Claire felt the implication before he said it.
Samuel looked at the window.
“She told him no.”
The diner became very quiet.
Not actually.
Plates clattered.
Someone laughed near the counter.
A blender started behind the bar.
But Claire heard none of it correctly.
“Are you saying my father raped your mother?”
Samuel’s jaw tightened.
“She never used that word with me.”
“What did she say?”
“That she told him to stop.”
Claire looked down at her coffee.
A thin brown ring had dried inside the cup.
“She kept working for him?”
“For eight months.”
“Why?”
“She needed health insurance. She was pregnant. She had no family nearby.”
Claire covered her mouth.
Samuel continued quietly.
“Eventually Victoria found out.”
“How?”
“My mother told her.”
Claire looked up.
“Why would she tell his wife?”
“She wanted help.”
“What did Victoria do?”
“She helped her leave.”
May you like
Claire said nothing.
“She found her another job. Paid her rent for a year. Got her an attorney.”
